


Distraction

by templarsandhoes



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, One Shot, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 01:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6779632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/templarsandhoes/pseuds/templarsandhoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blackwall gets a message from the Inquisitor, requesting a distraction from her duties. He figured it was the least he could do for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

Working in the barn was an escape for Blackwall. No responsibilities, no intrusive questions from his friends; just the sounds of the horses and his hands. He used his tools to chip away at wood, not sure of what the finished product will be. He’s able to breath out here, although, he admits it would be nicer if she were here, too. Part of him hated himself for growing so attached to the Inquisitor, but the other part of him loved being in love with Alea. The elven woman was charming and beautiful and so incredibly kind. She was more than what he deserved, and he planned on making the most out of her seemingly never-ending love. As he carved, his mind wandered from her, to the Inquisition, to his life before, and inevitably, back to Alea. His thoughts were soon interrupted though, much to his dismay.

He heard footsteps behind him, and he sighed as he put his tools down. Blackwall turned towards the large door of the barn, seeing a scout before him. “Yes?” he asked, not caring if he sounded annoyed. Because he was.

“Message from Her Worship, sir,” the young man said. He held out a small piece of paper, more than likely folded three times. She always folded notes three times. His annoyance slowly faded as he walked towards the scout, accepting the note. A quick bow, and then the scout turned to leave. _Guess she’s not waiting for a response_ , he thought to himself. His fingers carefully opened her note, delicate around anything having to do with her. Blue eyes scanned her writing, her ornate handwriting.

“ _Come upstairs and give me a distraction?_ ”

He chuckled, folding the note up three times. He slid the paper into his pocket. His feet quickly moved him from the barn, across the courtyard, and into the fortress that was Skyhold. He felt his breath getting quicker, always feeling this way when he was on his way to see her. It had been months since he first kissed her, but his heart didn’t seem to notice. A warmth rushed over him. His cheeks were nearly burning. As he reached the door to her quarters, he took a deep breath. How did she still make him act like this?

He chuckled again as he started ascending the stairs. “You are a piece of work, my lady,” he said quietly, mostly to himself. And then, he felt the warmth again, a bit lower than his face this time. While he didn’t know for sure what she had in mind, his body was certainly hoping for something intimate. The door to her room was in front of him, and he knocked a few times.

“Blackwall? Is that you?”

“It is,” he answered. He heard her move across the room, her impossibly light footsteps still making noise. Everything about her was gentle; her footsteps across a stone floor, her fingers when they were intertwined with his. Even the way she gripped a dagger was gentler than he had been used to. The first few times he had seen her take out her daggers, he was sure she was going to let go of them and throw them. But, she easily cut down her enemies, her daggers moving quick and clean, all while she barely held on to them. And he realized that gentle didn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing.

Her bare feet moved down the stone stairs, a light giggle escaping her lips as she quickly came to the door. It swung upon quickly, and his eyes took her in. He tried to, at least. He caught a glimpse of her blue eyes, her eyes that reminded him of oceans. They were quickly closed, however, as she quickly pulled his head down to hers, their lips colliding suddenly. His hand instinctively moved to her back. He kissed her, and as she pressed her chest to his, he was sure she could feel his heart beating in his chest through all of the layers of clothing between them. Entirely too many layers. He pulled away slightly, their lips still hovering next to each other. “You said you needed a distraction?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. She softly moaned, causing Blackwall to wrap his other arm around her and pick her up.

“Please. I can’t look at reports any longer,” she said, her voice breathless. His lips moved to her neck as he pressed her against the wall. Her hands ran through his hair, gently running across his scalp. He kissed her soft skin, moving from one side of her neck to her throat, then kissing under the other ear.

“You never know,” he whispered into her skin. He knew to kiss the spot under her ear, he knew that spot being kissed made her moan almost every time. “They might be important.”

“I need to be in my best state of mind to read them, then,” she said, ever so slightly rolling her hips against his. His fingers gripped her tighter at her movement, his lips pressed against her skin harder.

“I’ll do my best to help you then, my lady.” His teeth grazed her skin, as gently as she would hold his hand. Another soft moan escaped her lips. “What kind of distraction were you looking for?”

She hummed quietly, then bit her lip. “I want you to fuck me,” she said. He froze in his place, lips half open on her neck. If he wasn’t hard before, he sure was now. Alea wasn’t nearly as innocent as Blackwall had originally assumed, but she was not blunt. Always one to be coy, sending messengers for a ‘distraction’ rather than going out to the barn and pulling him up to the loft. She sent signals to him rather than initiating sex herself. He would never complain, however. Chasing her was something he would gladly do for the rest of her life. But this? While it was unusual, it was no less arousing.

“You’ve clearly thought this through. Any ideas on where?” he asked, pulling her away from the wall. He carefully walked her up the remaining set of stairs. She hummed again, the sound of her contentment ringing in his ears quietly. He repositioned her in his arms, holding her tighter. His mind was hazy, only focusing on her. As much as he liked his time out in the barn, this was much better than any rocking horse he would make.

“I just cleared off my desk…” she said, her voice trailing off as she finished. He groaned. Loudly. She laughed in his ear, while trying to unbutton his jacket. As he walked up the last step, he kissed her lips, his grip on her loosening. He pulled his head back as her fingers delicately worked the buttons on his jacket. His eyes traveled along her arms, to her collarbone, to her neck.

“Is this one of my shirts?”

“You’re just noticing?” She smiled as she undid the last button. He walked her to the desk, placing her down gently at the edge.

“You really didn’t let me get a good look at you,” he said, pulling off his jacket hastily. He kicked his boots off, too. She chuckled.

“Fair.” Her voice was gentle but seductive. As soon as he had removed his jacket, her fingers were at the bottom of his shirt, lifting the fabric up. While the fingers that ran up his rough skin were calloused, they were still soft and gentle. Her fingers were hot on his skin, but they trail they left was cool. He lifted his arms mindlessly, allowing her to expose him. He pulled his shirt off as her fingers ran back down his chest, nails scratching. Their lips had been apart for far too long, both of them had decided. They kissed each other, rough and somewhat sloppy. They wanted to kiss each other, wanted to undress each other, wanted to kiss other parts of their skin all at the same time.

His large hands moved across her back, bunching the fabric of her, his, shirt. One of his hands made its way under the fabric, his cold hand against her warm skin. His hands were so rough compared to her skin, it almost felt like a sin to be able to touch her like this. He had seen greed, betrayal, death; his hands proved that. But she was good, too good for him. He made no secret about that. He felt as if he were tainting her perfect skin with his bloodied hands, the hands of someone who has made far too many mistakes in his life. She didn’t move away from him, though. This woman who had lived peacefully until the Conclave, whom everyone admired and called friend. She felt his hands on her skin and moved even closer to him. _A mistake_ , he thought to himself. But he refused to let her see reason now.

She removed her hands from his chest, if only to remove her own shirt from her chest. He took a small step back, allowing himself to selfishly watch. He watched the hem of the shirt move up, exposing more and more of her skin. Tanned skin from the long weeks spent in the sun. She had so little scars for someone who saw so much battle. His eyes lingered on her waist, how small she was compared to him. Before he knew it, the shirt was being tossed aside, her head shaking to fix her hair. How he loved her hair. It wasn’t much longer than her shoulders when they had first met, light brown locks tucked behind her long ears. But now, almost two years and very few haircuts later, it fell to the middle of her back. Wavy and thick, perfect for his hands to get lost in. And he did just that.

His hands found the back of her head, hair weaving in and out of his fingers. Bearded lips found hers again, kissing her with fervor. Maker, he was attracted to her. Every time he kissed her, touched her, it felt better than before. Her skin felt softer with each day, her eyes seemed bluer, her kisses sent a new chill down his back. Did she know that she did this to him? Made him answer her every call, every note she sent? One of his hands moved down her neck, moving gently across her skin. Before her, he was rough with his lovers. It was how loud could he make them, how much would they writhe under him. And he was damn good at it. But something about Alea made him gentle. Blue eyes looked up at him, long ears moved as she blushed. She wasn’t innocent, but something about her made him want to take his time. He knew that every time they made love, it could be the last. Somehow, she’ll find out. Thom Rainier always had a way of ruining things. But he had her to distract him from his past. While she only needed to be distracted from her current duties of saving the world, he wanted to forget everything he had ever done before he met her. But hell if he didn’t want to make this distraction last.

His fingers found her breast, gently caressing her. She moaned into his mouth, a sound and feeling that made his knees weak. He moved his mouth, kissing parts of her skin he hadn’t kissed today. As his head moved down her body, she leaned back onto the desk, her body elongated for him. His lips moved down, kissing each inch of skin as he went. Her breathing was heavier, her chest rising and falling hard as his beard tickled her skin. Lips closed around her nipple, her hips twitching slightly. Everything about her was smaller; her body, her moans, her movements. But it was the quiet moans that went straight to his cock, the noises she made that were for his ears only. He was fully aware of even the slightest moves her body made. When their skin briefly came into contact, there was a spark of electricity that was even more addicting than the finest wine. She didn’t have to do much to send his head spinning, didn’t need to be loud to make his hips buckle.

Her lips hung open, loud exhales leaving her body as he turned his attention to her other breast. He carefully ran his fingers across her sides and toned stomach. Maker knew she was flexible, able to adapt to any situation her enemies put her in. And the Maker also knew that wasn’t the flexibility Blackwall was thinking about in this moment. His rough hands polluted her perfect skin, and he looked up at her, hoping she didn’t mind. As if she knew, she met his eyes, her lips forming a small smile. For some reason, she was enjoying this, enjoying him. He knew he made a vow to himself to never be selfish again, never let greed or arrogance take over again. But seeing her like this, the most perfect woman in Thedas nearly naked beneath him, he had to be selfish. He had to have her.

His eyes closed, his lips closing around her nipple tighter. Her hand found the back of his head, fingers moving through his hair. Her body shifted under him, the few items still on her desk moving with them. The breath leaving her body almost sounded like moaning, but it was too soft. When his hands found the top of her trousers, the breath leaving her body sounded like moaning. She let go of him to undo the single button holding them together. His lips moved down her stomach, tongue ravishing her skin perfectly. Her skin held a taste of berries, sweet as could be. She had expressed earlier that his beard on her skin aroused her to no end. She was foolish, really. Telling him something like that. He would never take advantage of that, though. Kissing her body while asking for a favor so she’ll say yes. No, he only kissed her body for his own selfish gain, in love with the way her skin tasted.

She lifted her hips desperately, pushing her pants down. He eagerly helped, not lifting his head as he pulled them towards him. He pulled one leg off, then the other. His lips found her smalls, the thin fabric doing little in hiding her arousal. He groaned again, his head flush against her hips. He was less gentle with removing her smalls, however. As much as he wanted to take his time with her, prolong every touch, kiss, moan, his body would refuse such sentiment. The small piece of fabric was carelessly tossed aside, earning him a giggle from her. He grinned into her skin, one gentle kiss on her hip bone. Another right below it. He continued, moving down her leg, lips barely pressing into her skin before moving on. He looked to her eyes, briefly. Her blue eyes were wide, watching his every move. He held her gaze as he knelt down in front of her. He gave her other leg the same treatment, but not before he swept his tongue across her wet opening. Caught off guard, Alea moaned. Quite loudly. The kisses to her leg were completed quicker than the first, his mouth eager to get back to her center.

He would normally tease her, take his time, make sure she felt pleasure in every inch of her body. But he knew they were both getting impatient, their combined arousal changing his intentions. He wasted no more time, pulling her hips closer to the edge of the desk. Maker she made a good choice with the desk. His mouth covered her lips, the taste of her arousal making him moan. His arms were hooked around her hips, holding her close. He could die here and die a happy man. His tongue worked her, her soft moans filling his ears. She moved on the desk, her body reacting without her permission. He knew it wouldn’t take her long to reach her peak. It would be a miracle if he lasted long after this. Her moaning combined with the way she tasted could make him finish in his trousers. She bit her knuckle, her moans now slightly muffled. She was going to be the death of him. He had to let her finish, he couldn’t stand not being inside of her. He moved his tongue faster, flicking over her most sensitive area. Soft moans turned into loud moans. He felt her grasp at his head, keeping him in place. As if he ever wanted to move. Her chest shot up, head tilted back. She was silent for a moment, but his mouth kept moving, the room filled only with the sounds of his mouth for a moment. She gripped his head hard, a higher-pitched moan leaving her mouth. He groaned against her, causing her to moan again. Her chest heaved against the desk, her legs went limp.

He slowed his tongue, easing her down from her high. She covered her eyes with her hand. “Shit, you’re good at that,” she whimpered. He chuckled, standing up and leaning over her. His clothed bulge met her entrance, a move he immediately regret. Before he could move, she had pulled him down and pressed her lips to his. He placed his hands on either side of her head. The fact that she was so eager to kiss him after he was done made his heart race. He knew she could taste herself on him. She kissed him and kissed him, finally pulling back and resting her head on the desk again. “You should take those off,” she said, her finger pointing to his hips.

“As my lady commands,” he teased, before kissing her one last time. He stood up, and more frantically than he planned, he worked his trousers off. She sat up, watching his cock as he bent over to pull his trousers completely off. He groaned as her fingers wrapped around his length caught him off guard. They moved along him, slowly, so agonizingly slow. He let her stroke him, the selfish part of him taking over. He reveled in the motions she was making, her hand so gentle but still so perfect. He closed his eyes, resting his hands on either side of her hips. He leaned onto the desk, his head falling to the crook of her neck. When she added a second hand to him, another soft hand moving along his length, his hips bucked forward. “Shit,” he hissed. He bit her neck softly, her gasp at the contact making him smile. He pulled back, taking a step away from her hands that were going to end him.

His hands carefully pushed her back down, and she obeyed with a smile. When she was completely back, he moved her hips slightly so they were back at the edge of the desk. Her legs spread before him, and she was completely exposed to him. He licked his lips, taking his erection in his hand. Not nearly as nice as hers. He slowly brought himself to her, running his head along her folds. She bit her lip. “Are you ready?” he asked. He knew the answer, but he was curious if she was going to be coy or blunt. Selfish, selfish, selfish.

“I’ve been ready for an hour, Blackwall. Please,” she begged. He kept teasing her, pushing in slightly.

“Huh. Haven’t been here an hour,” he said.

“Yes, well. I was thinking about you,” she admitted. She turned her head to the side, her ear wiggling slightly. He grinned, the pride filling his chest momentarily blocking the aching need to be inside of her.

“The Inquisitor was having daydreams about being fucked on a desk,” he said, his voice rough and low. She groaned quietly.

“Yes. Now please make my dreams come true.” Her sarcasm was rare, but manifested in the best of times.

“As you wish.” And with that, he pushed himself in completely. They both moaned loudly. Blackwall knew he was large, the past lovers had told him that. But the way his cock filled her gave him more pleasure than anyone else ever had. He pulled himself out slow, a long moan coming from her as he did. “Maker,” he groaned as he entered her again. He formed a steady pace, faster than he had originally planned. He still wanted to make sure he was as gentle with her as she deserved. He held one of her legs up, his arm wrapping around it completely. He kissed her ankle repeatedly as he thrust into her softly. She moved her head around, unable to find one spot to focus on completely. His movements were controlled, each thrust earning him a moan.

He found himself quickening his pace suddenly, as her moans increased in volume and frequency. The only sound he heard was her; her mouth, his body connecting with hers. He only smelt her, looked at her. In that moment, there was nothing else in the world but her. Her hand wrapped around the forearm that rested on her side. Her fingers dug in just so, and he knew she was close. He kept the faster pace for several more minutes, his brow getting covered in sweat. The desk was creaking, moving back and forth with them. He watched her breasts bounce in time with his movements. His body moved over hers, adjusting the angle ever so slightly. Her eyes closed tight. While he loved her soft, quiet moans, the loud, primal moans she was giving him right now were a close second. He focused all of his energy on her. He thrust harder, just a little harder, and he felt her walls contract around him. She moaned loudly, breathing heavy, fingers digging into his skin. He didn’t stop, kept moving his body into hers, made her climax last as long as possible. She slowed her breathing slightly, loosened the grip on his arm.

She finally opened her eyes, and stared right at him. She had a lopsided grin, her eyes barely staying open, mouth still moaning as he kept pushing himself inside of her. It was that look, the look of contentment she gave him, that sent him over the edge. If she was happy, then he could finish without feeling like he didn’t give her enough. He thrusted a few more times, much harder than before. He groaned as he felt himself climaxing. He quickly pulled himself out, spilling himself onto her stomach. Her head fell back as she felt him covering her. Her hand found his, intertwining their fingers as best she could. He let out one final groan as he took a half step back. She sat up awkwardly, her lips forming a smile as she pulled his head towards her. He breathlessly kissed her, both of them moaning quietly at the contact. He quickly backed up, knowing she kept cloth scraps in her room. Admittedly, she kept more since their joinings had become more frequent.

He grabbed two pieces and walked back over, already cleaning himself off as he did. She hummed in approval when he wiped her stomach. “You happily distracted?” he asked, a smile forming under his mustache.

“Mmm. Very,” she answered. The happiness in her voice made his heart swell. When he was finished cleaning her off, he walked towards the pile of other dirty clothes that she kept. She hopped off the desk, grabbing one of the discarded shirts from the floor. She pulled it over her head, walking towards him. He looked at her, smiled for a second, then started to speak.

“That’s the shirt I was wearing when I came here.” She looked down, pulling at the hem to examine it.

“It’s quite comfortable,” she said as she looked back up to him. Her smile was wicked as he stepped towards her.

“You can’t steal all of my shirts, Lea.”

“If you want this one so bad, you can take it off when you leave,” she said. She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek.

“You’re infuriating,” he said, walking back towards her desk. He leaned over and picked up his trousers.

“You mentioned that,” she teased. She climbed onto her bed. “Ooh, before you come over here, can you grab the pile of papers on my desk please?”

“What makes you think I’m coming over there?” he asked, both of them fully aware that he intended on joining her on the bed.

“Please?” she begged. She didn’t have to beg, but she figured it wouldn’t hurt. He rolled his eyes as he picked up the stack of papers. She giggled as she watched him come over to her. He handed her the papers and got into bed. He made himself comfortably on top the covers, propping up a pillow or two to lean against. When he stopped moving, Alea leaned against his chest, settling in to read the reports she had put off. He took a deep breath as she leaned back to him, resting his chin on her head. His arms wrapped around her, and he heard her take a deep breath as well.

“What are these reports that you needed a distraction like that?” he asked.

“Orlesian nobles having feuds about…” she trailed off as she looked through the first few pages in the pile. “Well, everything.” He chuckled. “I don’t understand why I have to deal with this. The ancient magister threatening to destroy the world is a bit more important than some land dispute in Orlais.”

“And that’s why you’re in charge,” he said, squeezing her waist briefly. “Why can’t the Ambassador take care of it?”

She sighed. “She was the one who gave me the reports. Told me that the involved parties wanted my involvement specifically.”

“Figures.”

“You have full permission to hit me or anything if I get like this. Thinking I’m more important than I really am,” she said. She separated the pages into three separate piles on the bed.

“Alea, I have a feeling that won’t be an issue with you,” he said quietly. He kissed her head, her hair smelling perfectly like flowers. “Although this bed doesn’t scream ‘humble’,” he added. She laughed. The bed they laid on was ornate, grand, things he would never say to describe Alea. Four posts on each corner rose up, red curtains were gathered on each post.

“I’ve never had a real bed before, only bedrolls at camps when the clan stopped for the night. So when Josephine showed me sketches of beds I decided to indulge myself. And it’s so comfy…”

“As long as it makes you happy.”

She inhaled sharply. “You know, you could sleep up here. Not be in the barn all the time.” She looked back to him, and started talking again once he sighed. “One time I had a tent next to the halla. It was the worst sleep I had ever gotten.” He chuckled.

“I’m used to it. Please don’t worry about me, Lea. You don’t have to,” he said.

“Yes, well. I want to. So please, humor me. Stay at least one night.” She turned in his arms, craning her neck to look at him. He let go of her slightly, and she turned around to face him, arms wrapping around his neck. He let her kiss him. He let her kiss him even though every bone in his body was telling him to leave. You don’t deserve to spend the night with her, the voices in his head told him. But when he looked into her eyes, those voices stopped. If it would make her happy, he would do anything. He would give himself up, hurt himself in the worst ways if it meant she had a smile on her face.

“Alright. But I’m not helping you with these reports,” he said. She smiled, and leaned her head against his chest. Her body was twisted so that her side was against his chest, but she was still able to rest her head against him.

“I can work with that.”


End file.
